Page 49 of Shattered Veil
Part of me wants to run, to get as far away from him as possible. But another part, a darker part that I try to ignore, shivers in a good way at his possessiveness.
“I’m not yours,” I say, but my voice lacks conviction.
Marius smirks, reaching out to trace a finger along my jaw.“Keep telling yourself that, little bird. But we both know the truth.”
I jerk away from his touch, my heart racing.“You don’t get to talk to me about the truth. Not when you keep secrets and play games, Marius.”
“You’re not ready for the whole truth. But I’ll give you this—you’re special, Brigid. More special than you know. And there are people who would use you, hurt you, to get what they want, because of who you are.”
“Like you?” I spit.
Marius’s lips curl into a cruel smile.“Oh, I absolutely want to use you, little bird. But not like that.”
I shudder at the dark promise in Marius’s words, and feel my cheeks flushing despite my anger.“What exactly do you want from me, Marius?”
His eyes gleam with wicked intent as he leans in close, his breath hot against my ear.“You want the truth? I want to break you apart and put you back together. I want to show you the depths of your power, to make you embrace the shadows inside you.”
His hand slides to my throat, thumb pressing lightly against my vein.“I want to hear you scream my name as I fuck you senseless.”
My breath catches, desire warring with self-preservation. I should run. I should tell him to go to hell. Instead, I tilt my head back, exposing more of my neck to his touch.
“And what makes you think I’d let you?” I ask, my voice embarrassingly breathy.
Marius chuckles.“You’re a terrible liar, little bird.” He reaches out his hand and tips my chin up so my eyes are looking straight into his.“Don’t forget our deal. You owe me a night.”
He drops his hand and walks away, and it’s the second time in two days a man has left me standing there, speechless.
Chapter Twenty-One
Brigid
I wait outside Eira’s door, my hand poised to knock. Doubt gnaws at my gut. Do I really want to burden her with my shitty mood? Everyone’s got their own problems to deal with. But the weight in my chest is suffocating, and I have no one I can talk to.
Before I can second-guess myself again, I rap my knuckles against the wood.
“Come in!” Eira’s lilting voice floats through the door.
I push it open, stepping into a whirlwind of papers and leather-bound tomes. Eira sits cross-legged on her bed, surrounded by stacks of books. Her eyes light up when she sees me.
“Brigid! What a lovely surprise!” She sets aside the massive text in her lap and pats the space beside her.“Sit.”
“Thanks.” I perch on the edge of the bed. My gaze darts around the room, taking in the organized chaos. Every surface is covered in papers, scrolls, and texts. It’s exactly what I’ve come to expect from Eira—of course an owl shifter would have a little a nest of knowledge.
“How are you?” Eira asks, her head tilting in that birdlike way of hers.“You seem a little upset.”
I shrug, picking at a loose thread on my sleeve.“Just... you know. Stressed about the Harrowing, I guess.”
“Is that all?” she probes gently.
I bite the inside of my cheek, warring with myself. Part of me wants to spill everything—my anger at Lochan, who our new dean really is—or more accurately, was—to me. But old habits die hard.
“Yeah,” I lie.“That’s all.”
Eira’s eyes narrow.“Are you sure there’s nothing else?”
I cross my arms tightly, averting my eyes.“Isn’t that enough?” I laugh half-heartedly.“I mean, impending probable death is kind of a downer.”
She nods.“The Harrowing will be a challenge. But you’ll be fine. We all will.”
